


Leave a Light On

by Scootyshabooty



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Joseb - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2533514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scootyshabooty/pseuds/Scootyshabooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Complicated was putting it lightly. Deadly was a little heavy. At the end of the day they liked to think they had each other. For the most part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Insubordinate

**Author's Note:**

> More so little glimpses into these detective's lives than actual plot, but hey, it's my first post on here! \o/

It all started with the sound of a door closing. The click of a lock, shuffling footsteps in the dark, and Sebastian’s hands at his waist, pulling him in and forcing their mouths together. He had seen it coming, it would be a disservice to his title of he hadn’t, but it still came as a shock. On the job, in a utility closet at the precinct.  
How cliche. Perhaps a bit tacky for Joseph, but it was right up Sebastian’s alley. Joseph briefly wondered how many times Sebastian had used this tactic on women before, but then his pants were at his knees and the hands on his body were scorching his skin, and he let the thought slide. He’d wanted this, and now he was getting it. He could let the thoughts go. Just for a while.

Truth be told, maybe it hadn’t started there.

It could have been the way Sebastian lingered at his desk, a firm hand squeezing his shoulder for a job well done, or perhaps a little encouragement. It could have started when Joseph, as skilled a detective as he was, couldn’t grip his gun quite right. His left arm was too straight, Sebastian had told him, coming up behind him and gripping his elbow, forcing it to bend. His voice lost it’s edge against his ear. Take it easy, you’ll never take the recoil if you’re that stiff. Joseph cleared his throat and excused himself. That had been something.

It might have started when Sebastian’s quiet anger turned to acceptance. When their relationship, as complicated as it might have been, started to heal. Among other things.  
Their relationship was based on healing, when you got to the core of it. Loss and betrayal lingered and well, time heals all wounds. Or most, at the very least.  
Some.

"You’re not supposed to be here."  
It was hard to speak with that calloused grip around him. His glasses were fogging up. Maybe time to look into contacts.  
"Fuck if I care." Came the muffled response. Muffled, because Sebastian was too busy tending to the skin of Joseph’s neck. It felt like he was trying to mark his very pulse. Close to overwhelming, but Joseph held pride in his ability to keep a straight face.  
"Oh _shit-_ "

Until Sebastian did _that._

The conversation could wait, he supposed. For a little while.


	2. Complacent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a comfortable sort of quiet.

Sebastian wasn't affectionate. 

What he did, on occasion, was invite Joseph over. The apartment wasn't bleak, not as much as Joseph might have imagined. But it still bore an emptiness, like it wasn't occupied by anyone. Or maybe it was the emptiness of the person who filled up its spaces, littered tables with old newspapers and let the dust build. Not many saw these dwellings much these days, not that were many people to even offer an invitation to. Sebastian wasn't big on keeping company. He had his partners, and his investigations, and the empty bottles holding papers down. Joseph had his qualms with this, but Joseph also knew when to keep quiet. He hadn't before, and that was why he hadn't seen this place in quite a while. 

And Sebastian wasn't extraordinarily accommodating. He didn't lead Joseph in by the hand, or tell him to take a seat, or bring out drinks he knew Joseph would decline. Sebastian would kick off his shoes, drop his holster on the coffee table, let his trench coat fall from his shoulders but that was something he wouldn't let hit the ground. The coat had a specific place, on a specific coat hanger. It was a gift. Another thing Joseph would keep quiet about. 

They would talk, because they _were_ friends. Despite all complications and hiccups in the road, nothing so far had been enough to take that away from them. They were friends, even if Sebastian would go out of his way to ruffle Joseph's hair if he noticed he had spent extra time on it that day, and even if Joseph's sarcasm would run strong and true long enough to cause a need for silent mediation to keep from crushing his skull. 

Sebastian wasn't affectionate, but he would sit on the couch, turn on the TV, and use this as an indication that he was done talking. Joseph knew by now how this would go. He'd take his seat beside him, try his best to sit back and take it easy, and pretend to watch whatever was on. Neither of them probably paid any mind to the flashing lights, but they could pretend, and it would fill a silence that wan't all that uncomfortable to begin with. 

Normally, this is when he'd feel a hand between his legs, and he'd open them, and he'd be pliable, welcoming, because it was what Sebastian needed and it was what Joseph wanted. This is when the silence would grow, because all they could do was breathe. Routine was an important part of repair. 

"Move your hands."

Joseph was startled, sort of, but held in the surprise at hearing the sleepy sounding voice beside him. His hands had been folded in his lap, so he did as he was told, and dropped them to his sides. He looked to Sebastian for some sort of answer, but found none in the half lidded eyes that looked away from him now. That was, until Sebastian shifted in his seat, turned and brought his legs up, draped them across Joseph's lap. 

They were warm. Sebastian was always warm. 

His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment, before being placed atop Sebastian's legs. It wasn't awkward, it was hard to find awkwardness when they had known each other for so long, it was just...different. 

His fingers followed the folds of his jeans. They were riding up at the ankle, and his thumb found some skin there. Sebastian shifted when he touched him, and he paused, but nothing followed, and so he continued. 

The light of the television was bright, so he closed his eyes against it. He assumed Sebastian did the same. 

"Thanks."

Sebastian wasn't affectionate. 

"Welcome, Seb."

But sometimes he was surprising.


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really a full update of any sort, but dragonndoggod's comment got the idea stuck in my head so I had to get it down! Thanks for the feedback!! :)

When Sebastian wakes up, Joseph's fingers are buried in his hair. 

The sun hasn't made it over the horizon yet, the room barely lit. 

His body doesn't ache. His mouth isn't dry and there isn't a headache. 

It's different. 

The fingers move again, combing through his hair. It's thinning, but Joseph would never acknowledge that. 

He should get up. He should tell Joseph to leave.

His body presses back against the heat that is Joseph's body aligned with his. 

He should do a lot of things. 

But there's fingers in his hair, and lips at the back of his neck. 

He closes his eyes. 

It can wait.


	4. Marred

Sebastian is injured on the job a few days later.

It's not the first time, the scars on his body make that obvious enough. 

But it's loud and violent and disorientating. Sirens are blaring and cops are running and shots are being fired and Sebastian is stumbling toward a brick wall, gun slipping from his hand, and there's blood but Joseph isn't sure where it's coming from. He isn't sure of much right now.

His ears are ringing now, its hard to hear anything but the ringing and his own pulse. Bang, bang, bang. It's a gun going off in his head now.

Sebastian doesn't look scared, he doesn't look hurt, he looks angry. His brow knit together, teeth clenched. Joseph runs toward him, grabs him by the arm, calls his name, but Sebastian doesn't turn. 

"We had him." 

Joseph knows the routine, knows the bitterness Sebastian holds for anything other than 100% success. 

"And we might still have him, but you're--"

"We _had him!_ " 

Sebastian stumbles, Joseph braces him, there's blood on his sleeves now. It's a deep red, and there's not enough to threaten Sebastian's life but it's enough to make Joseph nauseous. He feels bile in his throat. It's never been blood that makes him sick. 

Joseph puts a hand on the side of Sebastian's neck, and Sebastian turns to face him finally, looking offended at the thought of physical contact. It doesn't help the queasiness he feels.

"You need to stop. I am telling you to _stop_ , Sebastian." 

There's a waver in his voice, and thankfully neither of them acknowledge it. Sebastian grabs at the hand touching him, forces it away, like he's smacking away a bug on his coat. 

But he doesn't force the rest of Joseph away. He lets the arm bracing his body stay there. He breathes heavy and ragged. The sirens are close now. A man is telling them to come with him. There's a stretcher a couple of feet away, but Joseph already knows it wont be used. 

 

When they're at the hospital later, after Sebastian has been stitched up- a 4 inch slash to his abdomen -Joseph will look down at his hands, seated in the only chair in the room aside from the hospital bed. He'll look down at the hand that had been coated in blood, and the hand that had been pushed away, and his fingers will tremble, but they won't talk about that either. They never talk about the cracks in Joseph's armor. He doesn't let them.

"Joseph." 

He looks up, startled, and Sebastian is sitting up, shirtless because of the bandaging around his abdomen. Another scar to add to the collection. 

And when Joseph doesn't say anything, Sebastian holds out his hands, palms up, saying nothing, and Joseph will get up from his seat without a word, and they'll meet 2 strides later, and Joseph will place his hands in Sebastian's, his cold hands with blood caked under his fingernails. 

Sebastian holds them both, but he pulls one up, places it on the side of his neck, where it had been before, and Joseph can't resist grazing his thumb along Sebastian's jaw. It's prickly with stubble. There's a scar there, too. Next to his chin. 

Sebastian is looking up at him, chapped lips, worry lines, dark circles, and Joseph leans down, hoping to smooth some of those lines away with his lips.

And Sebastian, for the first time, with a soft sigh, lets him.


	5. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fresh start.

When Sebastian gets his stitches out, he takes to walking around his apartment with his shirt off. Joseph is over, because he's been hanging around since the accident, and whether or not that was to make sure Sebastian didn't tear the injury open or just because Joseph's own place was feeling a little too big, he wasn't going to say. Regardless of the reason for Joseph's presence, Sebastian's sudden decision to be half naked has Joseph biting the inside of his cheek. 

Sebastian stands in front of the only full sized mirror in the place, propped up against the wall opposite of where Joseph is seated. He touches where the stitches were, a light pink around the white of a new scar. He's got plenty, and he's never really paid them any mind, but his attention to this one has Joseph raising a brow. Sebastian looks up, looking at Joseph through his reflection in the mirror. 

"Were you scared?" 

The question catches Joseph off guard, there hadn't been much talking that morning. He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses. 

"Well I was worried, at the very least. If I wasn't there you would have run until you bled out. " 

Sebastian scoffs, but he's grinning, probably because he knows Joseph is right. Still in front of the mirror, he turns this way and that, looking over the other scars littering his body. Sebastian always had a knack for getting into trouble, he still hadn't decided if it had gotten worse or better in that aspect since he made detective. 

Joseph had been admiring from afar, content enough, but Sebastian seemed an odd sort of chipper this morning- if that was the right word to use. He stood, padding over to where Sebastian stood, and after a moment of hesitation, wrapped his arms around his waist. 

He expected a rude remark, to maybe be pushed away. Joseph always considered every variable and possible outcome. But what he didn't expect was for Sebastian to sigh, to place his own hands atop the ones against his body. 

"Are we feeling sentimental today?" Sebastian asks, rough edge waning from his voice. Joseph presses his lips to Sebastian's shoulder, holds him a little tighter, because yes, he is. He's feeling sentimental and a little vulnerable and he's been wanting to touch Sebastian since the moment he saw him this morning. 

They've had sex. They've fucked on and off again for months. But it was only when Sebastian initiated it, and it was only when Sebastian was feeling empty, and it was only quick and dirty and Joseph cared too much to tell Sebastian that he needed more and Sebastian was too afraid of anything more than a quick fuck in a closet or on the couch. There's no reason for Joseph to be bashful, but this is different. This is Joseph touching Sebastian first, holding him, kissing him, and it's like starting from scratch. 

"I was scared." Joseph whispers against Sebastian's skin. He closes his eyes, lets a hand wander, fingers moving over Sebastian's stomach, down to right before the waistband of his pants. He can feel Sebastian shiver against him, he's known Sebastian is sensitive there for a while now, but he's never gotten the chance to touch him like this. 

"I'm sorry." Sebastian says, his own voice a different kind of quiet. He's serious, Joseph can tell, and it's one of the first sincere apologies he's ever heard from this man. Joseph kisses the back of his neck, let's his other hand join the first, and together they unbutton Sebastian's pants, slowly pull the zipper down. When he reaches down into his boxers, Sebastian's breath hitches, one of his hands grasps Joseph's arm, but when Joseph mistakenly takes that as a cue to stop, Sebastian grips tighter, keeps him there, and Joseph isn't going to stop now.

Where Sebastian's fingers are stronger and thicker than his, Joseph's are longer, delicate, and he wraps them around an already half hard cock. Leave it to Sebastian to be a step ahead, not that Joseph would ever complain, of course. It eases some of the tension in his body to know Sebastian is enjoying this. Has been since he came from across the room. He strokes him slowly, wants to feel him swell in his hand, wants to feel every way Sebastian reacts to him, and normally Sebastian might complain about the pace, but he's quiet, aside from the growing harshness of his breathing. It's when Joseph passes his thumb over the head of his cock, smears the precome there, and Sebastian moans outright for the first time, nails digging into his arm, that Joseph chances his first glance at the mirror since this began. 

" _Christ, Seb._ " 

It's all out of his comfort zone, being out in the open like this, the both of them exposed and forced to look back on themselves, but Joseph can't tear his eyes away from what he sees. Sebastian's skin is flushed, red tinting his throat and chest, his eyes are half lidded, but staring straight ahead, staring right at Joseph, and Joseph won't look away won't hide this time because Sebastian looks like this because of _him._ He's been hard for a while now, it was impossible not to be, and on a particular stroke Sebastian pushes back against him, rolls his hips against Joseph's and back up into his fist, and Joseph gasps, wraps his free arm around Sebastian as tight as he can manage, and it's enough to break what little composure he had left. He mimics Sebastian's move, rolls his hips, and it feels so good he does it again, and again, keeps rutting up against his ass while his strokes become sloppy and they're both moaning now, breathing erratic, and Sebastian is mumbling something but Joseph can't make it out and doesn't have the focus to ask. Joseph drags his teeth against Sebastian's skin, licks at it, tastes the saltiness of his sweat, and he feels like his legs are going weak but Sebastian puts a hand on top of his, makes him pick up the pace, and with Sebastian doing half of the work he can focus on the fact that he needs to come in his pants right _now._

Sebastian grits his teeth, eyes shutting tight, muscles contacting, and Joseph watches it all. He can feel Sebastian when he comes, feel his body coil up and let go, can feel him empty out on both their hands and watches when the mirror is dirtied, too. And its when Sebastian is reaches back with a clean hand, buries his finger's in Joseph's hair and tells him to come, that he does. 

 

It takes them a short while to compose themselves, and it's time spent catching their breath, lazily pulling apart to clean their hands (and for Joseph to change to sweat pants), and to Joseph's surprise, there isn't much time lost between that and Sebastian pulling them together again, arms tight around Joseph and his face pressed into the crook of his neck. Sebastian isn't one for post-sex sentimentality, so it catches him off guard, but not enough to stop him from holding him just as tight, running his fingers through his hair, just like he did nights ago. He had hoped at the time that Sebastian was asleep, or at least tired enough to not remember. But now, he hoped Sebastian did, and he hoped he liked it then, and liked it just as much now. The sigh Sebastian lets out against his skin feels promising. 

 

"What was it you were saying back there?" Joseph's voice cracks a bit from lack of use, but he's too tired and wrapped in his own blissful haze to care. Sebastian groans, probably annoyed at being forced to do more than just stand against the man in his arms, and he picks up his head, presses his forehead to Joseph's. It's nice. 

"I was begging, mostly." He huffs, and Joseph grins, despite the blush. 

"I take it that means I'm good with my hands?" His grin must be contagious, because now Seb's got it, and instead of indulging him with an answer, he kisses Joseph, soft and lazy and sweet. It's new for them. Everything is. 

Sebastian makes them breakfast at 3 in the afternoon, and Joseph makes the coffee. 

Sebastian is smiling, and it looks good on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. First time I'm writing a sex scene in any of my fics. If you want to call a sloppy handjob sex, anyway.
> 
> SO, I hope you guys are still enjoying this, and if you have any prompts you wanna throw my way for future chapters, feel free to send me a message over here! xx
> 
> http://salticinae.tumblr.com/


	6. Juncture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for alcoholism.

One night, at the start of winter, Joseph walks in to an empty bottle on the floor. 

It smells like Sebastian's desk used to. When people in the precinct started asking questions and looking to Joseph for answers. 

He knows what to expect, because it's not the first time he's walked in on this. He knows what to expect, but it already feels different now. 

Sebastian was his partner and his friend. And maybe that hadn't changed, but it wasn't just that anymore, and maybe they hadn't come up with any new titles for whatever was there now but it was something and it changed things. It was easier to stay detached when this felt one sided. 

He finds another empty bottle on a window sill. Light filters through it from the street lamp outside, amber and muted. He tries to imagine it as a vase instead. A big yellow sunflower sitting in it. 

There's a crash in the kitchen, a curse, and Joseph breaks his stare and runs. 

There's broken glass on the floor, mixed with what smells like whiskey, and Sebastian is sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a hand over his face, and he punches the wall next to him, curses again. 

Joseph can feel his chest starting to tighten. He chews at his lip, walks through the glass and the liquor. The sound of it crunching under Joseph's feet catches Sebastian's attention, and he looks up for the first time since Joseph entered the apartment. 

His eyes are red and hazy, circles darker than they've been in a while. A few days of stubble, hair a mess, it's nothing he hasn't seen before. Nothing new, and yet-

"What're you doin' here?" 

There's a telling slur to his words, and Joseph knows this is playing with fire, because Sebastian on a good day lacks a filter. 

"I haven't heard from you in a couple of days, I was getting worried." He began worrying on day one. 

"M'fine." 

"Clearly you're not." Joseph mutters, reaching down to grab Sebastian's arm. He barely makes contact before it's jerked away like he's been burned. Joseph knows better than to try again, but Sebastian is trying to stand, and it's not going so well, so he holds his hand out expectantly. He tries not to take it personally when he's ignored. 

"I'm _fine._ " Is the sharp response he gets when Sebastian is finally on his feet. Unsteady, still braced against the wall, and he's breathing heavy, like existing is some herculean task. 

For Sebastian, it is. 

Joseph stands with his arms crossed, quiet, and they exist in this tense space for a while, the tick of a clock loud in Joseph's ears. There's nothing to say, because this isn't new, and they're equal parts stubborn. Joseph gets tired of repeating himself and Sebastian gets tired of hearing it. 

_You have so much to live for_ , they had said. Joseph knew at the time Sebastian disagreed. Again, he knew not to take it personally. 

"Are you going to let me help you or not?" Is the question he finally manages, sick of watching Sebastian like this. The smell is getting to him. He feels light headed. 

Sebastian looks at him like he's looked at everyone they work with. Like he looked at the man from internal affairs. It was the look he gave Joseph when he found out who it was that had reported him. 

Joseph hadn't slept well that night.

Or that week.

Sebastian finally pushes his way off the wall, takes his first stumbling footsteps, and slams right into Joseph. 

He pushes him, with his whole body even if he hadn't meant to, and Joseph nearly falls, catching himself on the edge of the table. Sebastian is hovering over him, nothing but contempt in his eyes, and he points at Joseph, accusing, struggling with his words. 

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He spits, a layer of disgust in his voice, but it's not steady and he knows they're both not okay right now. Joseph opens his mouth but Sebastian continues. 

"You..You just want to be the hero, right? That's what this is. I'm some-- some charity case."

"Sebastian, that's not what this is and you know tha--"

" _Bullshit!_ " 

Joseph flinches, closing his eyes, like this isn't happening if he can't see it. His fingers are so tight on the edge of the table it feels like they're about to splinter and break. 

He can hear Sebastian walking away, and he opens his eyes only then, looks to the living room. Sebastian is looking out a window, and maybe the moonlight on his face might have been beautiful on any other night, but tonight it just highlights the crease in his brow, his sunken eyes. Joseph feels his throat go tight. 

He's not staying quiet this time.

It would be more dangerous if he did.

"You don't get to decide what this is." There's anger behind his words for the first time in a while, even if they tremble, and he walks with purpose, grabs Sebastian's shoulder and turns him around, makes him face this straight on because he's sick of playing this game. 

"I didn't report you to boost my own ego. I didn't stick around because I wanted to make myself look good, and you know that Sebastian, so don't give me this bullshit."

He waits for Sebastian to interrupt him, but he doesn't, and Joseph feels like he's about to explode with months of stress and worry and hurt coming to a head. 

"If you don't want help- fine. If you want to continue to drown everything out like this, fine. But don't you dare act like I'm only here to make myself out to be the hero. Don't you dare, Sebastian." He thinks he sees Sebastian's features soften, but it's hard to tell when everything is starting to blur. His hands are shaking, and his throat is burning. He wants Sebastian to stop him but he hears nothing and he can't stop. 

"I did what I thought was best for _you._ You lost so much and I wasn't about to watch you lose your job. And you know what? Maybe it's selfish, but I didn't want to lose you either. I didn't want to watch you waste away, and every time I look at that flask I'm terrified of it happening all over again. All this time I've been scared of this and maybe if I spoke up sooner we wouldn't be here right now. Maybe we'd be drinking coffee and talking and laughing but instead I'm watching you kill yourself again and again." 

He thinks he sees Sebastian reach out for him, but he's gone before he can make contact, down the stairs, out the door, and the sudden blast of cold startles him, makes him gasp, ice in his lungs, and the rain feels like being stabbed over and over again. 

When did it start raining? 

He starts running.

"Joseph!" 

His feet feel heavy, everything does, he doesn't know where he's going but his legs wont stop moving.

"Joseph, wait!" 

He doesn't want to stop doesn't want to think doesn't want to deal with things like this for once in his life he doesn't want to have to exist--

A hand grabs his, stops him suddenly, pulls, and the momentum of falling sends him straight into Sebastian's arms. 

It's the tightest he's ever been held. It feels like his bones are breaking. His heart is hammering in his chest. 

"Don't go." Is what he hears, rough, weak, vulnerable. Barely audible under the falling rain. 

"Don't go." It's said again. "Please don't go." 

"Sebastian."

"Help me. Please. I'm asking you, I'm telling you to help me." 

It's the first time Sebastian has ever asked. 

Joseph pulls back to look at him, and he can't see a thing, so Sebastian pushes his glasses up, holds his face in his hands. 

Even in this rain they're warm.

"I won't go." He says, places his hands on the ones against his cheeks. "But you have to let me in." 

"I will." It's a promise. He can tell.

He just wants to be held again, and when he presses against Sebastian, he is.

It feels safe here. 

"Promise you'll talk to me."

It catches Joseph off guard, and he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know if he should say anything. But Sebastian continues. 

"I know you're stressed, and I know I hurt you. I'm not an idiot. This can't always be about me. I don't want it to be."

Joseph still doesn't know what to say. 

But he hopes kissing Sebastian with everything he has will say enough. 

 

They're drying each other off in the apartment later. 

It's hot chocolate instead of coffee, because Joseph likes the smell. 

Sebastian leads him to the bedroom by the hand, and it's cozy under the covers.

Sebastian runs his fingers through Joseph's hair, and Joseph closes his eyes, leans into his touch. 

They fall asleep tangled together, Sebastian snores and Joseph drools. 

It's nowhere near perfect.

But when Joseph wakes up to Sebastian emptying bottles into the sink, and pancakes on the table next to the bed, he decides it's good enough for him.


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad dreams lead to good mornings.

There’s fire. 

Hot and loud, loud in his ears, the roaring of it.

Scorching everything, every photograph, every memory. 

He hears screaming now. Barely audible above the flames. 

He’s frantic, flames burn at his clothes, they singe and fall.

The screaming is louder. The skin of his arms blackened, blistered, bleeding.

He feels it licking at his neck, his heels, pulling him down. 

"Daddy!"

No. Not again. 

He drags himself across splintered and charred wood. 

His flesh rips and tears. Sloughs off. 

No.

Not again. 

The screaming. Please god stop the screaming.

"Help me!" 

He wheezes. Breathes in soot and ash.

Blood. Fire. Screaming. 

No.

"NO"

He wakes in a cold sweat. He’s shivering, heart pounding, light headed.

The blankets are on the floor, so is his pillow. He’s breathing heavy. Too heavy. He can’t catch his breath. 

He can still hear it.

"Sebastian."

He can still hear her.

"Seb!"

It’s only now that he notices the hands on him, gripping his arms.

He doesn’t remember sitting up but he is, and so is Joseph, staring at him, eyes wide and he looks so worried it hurts him. 

"Seb, you’re okay."

It’s only now that he starts to calm, starts to breathe, and he’s not okay but if Joseph says it he can believe it. 

"I’m sorry." He rasps out, runs a shaking hand through damp hair.

"It was just a nightmare." He looks over to the nightstand for his cigarettes. Of course they aren’t there. Only when he would need them.

"It doesn’t seem like it was ‘just’ anything."

Joseph takes on this tone when he’s concerned. His voice lowers, soft and easy to listen to. It always makes Sebastian feel guilty. Guilty because there probably isn’t a day when Joseph isn’t worrying about him. 

There’s a silence between them, one Joseph lets go on for as long as it’s needed.

These dreams aren’t new, they’re not any worse or easier to deal with. But Sebastian deals, because he knows they aren’t going anywhere, because he knows he’s not going to heal and the idea of not remembering is almost scarier than the pain.

When Sebastian doesn't speak up, Joseph reaches, runs fingers through his hair, scratches gently at his scalp because it's something Sebastian likes, and Joseph has a mental check list of ways to make Sebastian melt. 

He can feel the tension leaving him, and Sebastian blinks slowly, sighs, and rubs at his face. He's so tired. 

"Joseph." The way he says his name is different from any other time he's heard it. Almost needy. Almost. 

Joseph lets his hand fall from his scalp, fingers following the line of his spine, and he rubs small circles into his back. 

"Yeah?"

"I feel so fucking useless some times." 

"Me, too."

Sebastian takes a deep breath, and it shakes on the exhale. 

"I miss them."

Joseph swallows the lump in his throat. 

"I know."

 

They lay on their sides, facing each other, Sebastian's arm draped over Joseph's waist, Joseph's legs tangled with his. They're silent, but sometimes Joseph will kiss Sebastian, and Sebastian will kiss back, and then they'll stare, talk with their eyes, and Joseph will look away just to have lips on his once again, drawing him back. 

It's the longest conversation they've ever had and not a single word has been said. 

When morning comes, the first thing they see is each other. Joseph smiles, a small thing, and Sebastian pulls him close, kisses him deep and slow. It's a week until Christmas, snow building on the window sill, and it's starting to feel like home again.


	8. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a sleepy romantic.

"Besame." 

Sebastian mumbles it, not quite awake, leaning back in his chair at the kitchen table.

Joseph is behind him, fixing up another pot of coffee, the second of the morning.

Sebastian could go through a couple pots himself if Joseph allowed it.

Which he doesn't. 

Joseph turns, raising a brow with a 'hm?'

Sebastian reaches out, awkwardly behind him because he's too lazy to just turn around in the damn chair, and after a bit of pathetic pawing at the air Joseph steps into his reach. 

Seb manages a weak grasp around his wrist, and gives him a tug, thumb rubbing at the bones there.

"Besos." 

"I still don't know what you're saying, but that sounds plural now." 

Sebastian chuckles, under his breath in that rumble that makes Joseph shiver a bit, no matter the context. 

Sebastian tugs again, and Joseph complies, letting himself be led closer until he's being nudged by Sebastian's leg, and with a quiet huff he takes a seat on the lap being offered to him.   
It's not an unfamiliar position, but still one Joseph's getting used to. Sebastian's eagerness for closeness is something that'll take a lot of getting used to. On both their parts.  
He feels arms around his waist, stubble against his neck, and then a soft kiss, lips lingering, warm breath to follow. 

"Kiss me." He says again, deep and warm, and Joseph's hand wanders, mussing with the hair at the nape of Seb's neck. 

"That's hard to do when you're not looking at me, you know." 

It's so quiet, so still, so warm. 

Seb's got eyes like honey and Joseph is always going to get lost in them. A place he likes to wander. 

They stare for a bit, and Joseph gives him what he asked for, so sweetly, in the first place. 

The sound of coffee brewing breaks the silence, and Sebastian pats Joseph's back. 

"Sounds like my coffee is done." 

Joseph rolls his eyes, gives Seb a nip to his ear, and Sebastian pinches his thigh with a huff. 

Sebastian gets a cup of orange juice instead, and it may not be what he wanted, but coming from Joseph, it'll do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while! 
> 
> I just got done playing the DLC The Assignment and after that stress filled adventure I figured we could all use some fluff.
> 
> It's short, which ya'll should be used to with me, but I hope it's to your liking since it's only been FOREVER since my last update. whoops!
> 
> And in case anyone isn't sure, "Besame" is 'kiss me' and "Besos" is 'kisses.' My little cousin likes to run around goin 'besos' until she gets kisses from everyone so you can thank her for the inspiration. 
> 
> <3


End file.
